Here is my prediction. That is, the prediction, which is mine, is this: My Prediction, by Anne Elk.
My prediction is: at approximately 11:45am, the mailman is going to stop his truck about fifteen houses down. He will then skulk through bushes and hide behind lamp posts until he reaches your house, at which point he will, with the stealth of of a Beverly Hills Ninja, stick your package in your mailbox with nary a thunk, and then dash off back to his truck and drive off the other way. You will not realize there is any mail until about 2:30 in the afternoon. Therefore, if you suddenly and forcefully open your door right about 11:47am, he should be right there and you will startle him enough to cause him to jump and toss your package right into your face as he topples back into the hedge outside, frightening a squirrel half to death, who will then scamper frantically up a tree, dislodge an acorn, which will fall onto the windshield of a passing car, startling the driver enough that he'll swerve and hit another parked car on the side of the road, which will set off its horn-based car alarm that won't get shut off for another three hours because the owner isn't home.
Now look what you've done. I hope you're happy.
(Note: My predictions have a 97.6% accuracy rate with a 99.4% margin of error.)
